The Postscript When my husband, Peter, and I met, we each had a dog. Peter had a collie named “The Pretty Boy,” (Yes, “The” was part of his name) and I had a pound puppy, part golden retriever, part border collie mix named “Milo.” The Pretty Boy died shortly before we were married, about five years ago, and Milo died just over a year ago. We talk about getting a new dog, of course, but all the good reasons not to have a dog prevail. Extended travel—actually travel of any kind—is enormously complicated with a dog. So, for a year now, Peter and ...